Distracted
by alyssialui
Summary: Hermione's attention is drawn away at the wrong moment. Character death. AU.


_A/N: Hermione's attention is drawn away at the wrong moment. Character death. RxR. FxF. _I do not own Harry Potter.__

_Submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): Muggle Studies Assignment #4 - **Write about character death._

_**Hogwarts Casino 2014 Challenge/Competition: **Write about a hero dying_

_**Hogwarts Fair 2014 Challenge/Competition: **Charms: Lesson 1 - protection_

* * *

Large holes decorate the thick castle walls giving her a lovely view of the battle on the grounds. Their home, once an impenetrable fortress which offered protection to its inhabitants and those who chose to seek it, was now in shambles, merely a shell of its former self.

People stream through the holes and into the destroyed Great Hall where she had eaten all her meals for the last six years. The jagged openings had allowed the enemy to get past their defences and fire from the inside out, effectively assaulting the men and women on the grounds from both sides. She is on the inside, unable to pass through any of the openings to join the fight and push back the assault.

Her aim is true, hitting enemy after enemy wherever possible, on any exposed part of skin. She aims to injure and incapacitate, not to kill. The same cannot be said for her attackers. They are out for blood, they are out for pain and torture. They will win by any means necessary.

No single sound can be deciphered among the chaos. There are loud explosions, desperate shouts, anguished cries, and that sick squelching noise that she now can identify as the splatter of blood and organs, the sound of death in the worst way possible. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see all this and the bodies they once belonged to, but she cannot look too long at them. Not only because it makes her sick her stomach, but one wrong move during battle, one distraction, could change everything.

Spells are flying everywhere at lightning speed. She is running on adrenaline and fear mostly, her arms and legs moving on impulse and experience. She has to move even faster than before, now having to fire without aiming. She was just barely aware of the spells she was casting or even if they hit their target. She has to strike before they do, but it doesn't matter for as one falls, another would engage her once more.

She walks back blindly, her attackers advancing on her slowly as each spell narrowly misses her by a hair's breadth. Stones and wood line her path, crushing under foot, and she has to carefully avoid them without looking, catching herself whenever she almost stumbles. If she falls, that will be the end. She would lose and on the battlefield, losing means death.

She would not lose. She would not go down when others needed her. She would save them. She would live so they could live. She presses forward, surprising her assailant by her renewed fire. She duels with determination, matching the man spell for spell, motion for motion until he finally falls at her hand in a crumpled heap.

There is a slight pause as no one replaces her opponent. She takes a much needed breath, not remembering the last time one was taken without the smell of iron and dust laced in it. The air is dirty but good. She looks out through the large hole to her right and smiles. Some progress has been made while she was engaged in almost endless battle. Their lines have surged forward, pushing the enemy back and just outside the openings. She could go outside now. She could help fight on the frontlines.

"Hermione!" Her name is shouted frantically across the hall and she spins. She can't find its source but it sounds worried and frantic and dire. Someone is in danger, someone needs help, someone is about to die.

She doesn't realize the shout is actually for her. She does not even see as the spell is fired, the burst of green light flying from the end of a wand towards its intended target. She does not hear as it whistles through the air and rises above the shouting below. She does not see the utter distress, sadness, regret and a whole range of emotions flash across the face of the person who called her name.

But she does feel the impact, a stinging sensation coloured green and black. It radiates from the crash site, infecting all the cells like poison. It travels through her blood stream and kills all her organs one by one. The rushing liquid reaches her brain and engulfs her in darkness. There is no time to think of what could have been, the lives lost and the damage done. There is no time to think of the past and any memories, good or bad. There is no pain, there is no screaming, there is nothing. Her body is thrown forward from the force but she is gone before she even hits the floor.


End file.
